


Find a new name for the falling star

by SanAnn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-05-04
Packaged: 2017-12-10 09:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanAnn/pseuds/SanAnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries to live an "apple-pie" life, but the memories of Sam keep hunting him. One day, he makes a wish on a falling star.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find a new name for the falling star

**Author's Note:**

> It's my version of the Season 6 premiere. I wrote it before I watched the premiere.

The night sky is dark blue and when Dean looks up, he sees the stars shining brightly.

Then, the reality shifts a bit to the left, blurring the colors, but Dean keeps peering at the sky, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The whole sky is like a map with the dots Sam liked to join, turning a puzzle into recognizable pattern of stars.

_“Look, Dean, it’s the Great Square of Pegasus.”_

The memory cuts off when Dean shakes his head lightly and the world rolls back into its place. Dean leans against the hood of Impala, hand clutching into the cold metal to get hold of the _picture present_ , and tries not to think, not to remember.

“Hey Dean,” the voice belongs to a kid and Dean glances down, frowning at the dissimilitude of the sound. Wrong voice.

And then, Dean remembers. _Camping with a kid. Camping with a real kid. No ghost of Sam. Ben._  
  
Ben points out at the bright star falling from the sky, “Make a wish.”

Dean closes his eyes and lets the world behind his closed eyelids shift back for a brief moment. He makes a wish.

 

 

  

Three states from there, Sam’s body appears on the floor of an abandoned factory. He breathes in.

 

 

  

When Sam opens up his eyes, the blinding red light is gone and his eyes don’t burn out. It feels like a trap.

Sam closes his eyes, inner instinct begging to lie as low as possible since he already gave himself away. His loud breathing out catches him off guard and he tries to curl himself into a ball, tightening his skin against the punishment that will follow.  
  
If he could just keep his eyes closed. If he could… It was easier when they stitched up his eyes.  
  
Sam waits, but the silence covers up the signs of every indiscernible enemy. He shuts his eyes tightly and begs his body to fall into oblivion. Something swallows his consciousness, and Sam is already too close to passing out to pray for it to be a good thing.

 

  

 

That day, when Dean looks at himself in the mirror – razorblade sliding against his cheek bone covered with shaving cream, movement accurate and mechanic – Sam’s face looks back at him.

_Incorrect reflection. Not him._

Dean cuts his skin with the razor, red coloring white shaving cream while Dean’s body sags on the floor. Dean sits on the cold tile floor, blinking away the tears, his legs refusing to stand up.

 

 

  

One month after, Sam leaves his shelter in order to get his hands on a map. His brain remembers which words to say and what kind of smile to use to shift the attention away from himself.

Sam’s brain keeps mixing the words “borrowing” and “stealing” – as always when it comes of taking something from the stores – and Sam can’t define which one is correct, but the map is already hidden in his jeans pocket and it fits for his purpose.

Once back in the factory, Sam spreads the map across his knees and starts studying it.

Felt pen in his hand, Sam starts joining the dots. Sam counts twenty-three dots before he stops and writes down the names of the beginning and end of his pattern. It starts with _Sam_ and ends with _Dean_.

 

 

  

Dean avoids looking in the mirror and he keeps making sure that every window and door in the house are locked. Something is coming and he doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing. He lost his senses and ability to find the right direction.

 

 

  

Sam sits in the car and watches Dean buying some food in the store across the street. He keeps peering as if he can re-learn Dean’s face.

Sam’s fingers tremble while remembering. Dean’s face was a map with each freckle like a dot for Sam’s fingers to join.

Sam’s whole body starts shaking slightly and he knows it won’t stop from now on as Dean’s arms are the only medicine to fix this. But Sam is awake enough to know it shouldn’t happen. He won’t let it happen.

In answer, Sam’s eyes sting but he doesn’t cry.

Sam watches Dean leaving the store. Absentmindedly, he shifts his gaze to the review mirror and jumps slightly.

 _Don’t look at the mirror_ , he whispers, head bowed down and shoulders quivering, _I told you not to look at the mirror._  
  
Sam reaches for the knife from his inner jacket pocket and looks at the flash of a blade. Enchanted, Sam wonders how deep should be the cuts for his face to change.

  

 

 

Dean turns around the corner and the paper bags of food slip from his grasp. Dean’s gaze follows down the broken bottle of milk as a white liquid flows down the street.

For some reason, Dean wants to cry. He’s losing something. Something is slipping from his grasp as well, and he can’t manage to notice.

 

 

  

At night the air gets colder, clearing the images and atmosphere, and Sam can’t stand being trapped with himself in the car. Outside is safer. There’s no mirror for Sam to face his reflection. The Other One might come for him, and Sam suspects that one of the ways is to get him through a mirror.

The night sky promises to hide him, and Sam leaves the car, breathing out a dust that his throat is filled with.

Sam looks up at the sky, eyes searching for a new pattern. He needs to find a new destination to let Dean breathe an air cleared from Sam’s ghost.

But the sky keeps insisting on only one pattern, starts shining brightly and refusing to change destination named _Dean_ to another one.

 

  

 

Something shifts in the air. Dean opens all the doors and windows, but it’s not enough. The air is charged with something, someone, and Dean can’t get enough of it.

Dean takes a walk, desperate to fill his lungs with the _changed_ oxygen.

When Dean notices a tall figure moving in the darkness, and after, lifting its face to watch the stars, stretching out _his_ hand as if to join the dots, Dean’s body drops down onto the ground.

  

 

 

Sam hears the sound and something is moving fast, but fast enough for Sam to react. Still, it catches him because Sam is right where his road ends and he won’t move.

When the body hits against him, Sam almost falls down if not for a man holding him so tightly that Sam’s ribs hurt.

Sam holds back because he has his destination in his arms. Because there’s no other road he’d choose.

Apparently, Sam drew his own pattern and has managed to join the beginning and end of it.

Dean cradles Sam’s face in his arms and Sam tries to hide it, tilting his face slightly to let his bangs fall down and cover it.

When Dean kisses his face, Sam whispers “Don’t– I’m ugly there”, but Dean doesn’t listen. He never listens.

“How did you find me?” Sam whispers because the world is shifting somewhere, cutting the ground from under his feet, and Dean’s answer is the only thing to hold onto.

Dean’s eyes are big and impossibly green when he says in a raspy voice, “The star was falling and I made a wish.”

Dean kisses his mouth, and Sam thinks that if that falling star was him, then maybe he stopped being ugly after all. 


End file.
